<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I will always find you (and other immutable laws of nature) by subducting</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058625">I will always find you (and other immutable laws of nature)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/subducting/pseuds/subducting'>subducting</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Multi, Whump, ahah yes there is so much angst here, humanity turns au, it's basically, post-timeless children, prepare yourselves this one's gonna fuckin hurt, the doctor suffers from a PR problem (and torture), what if everyone noticed that the doctor is the source of all their problems</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:02:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/subducting/pseuds/subducting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In times of strife, the Doctor finds the sciences to be of immense comfort to her. So, stuck in an especially nasty bind, with humanity turned against her and few allies left, she turns to recounting the fundamental laws of the universe. They end up being her sole reliable constant, trapped on Earth and on the run, with humanity out for blood.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), The Doctor/Yasmin Khan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a push or a pull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> The classical laws of physics are delightful in their predictability. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They’re also wrong- or at least, not precisely right, in every situation, but to me they still have a lot of charm. In times of extreme stress, I like to recite them to myself, like a fairytale. A bedtime story from the universe to yours truly. There’s comfort in imagining that things can be predicted perfectly, if only you know enough. Find the initial conditions and the outcome is yours for the calculating. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> One of the simplest ideas is that of a force. A push or a pull, that acts on some object to cause a change in motion somehow. It can move an object, change it’s momentum or deform and squash something, if that something has elastic properties. And although there are the four traditional forces enshrined in science, there has to be some kind of force surrounding the planet Earth. I find myself constantly pulled back there, even when everything has gone wrong. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And on this occasion, everything had gone wrong. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Doctor reflected, charging down a London street, that this would be more fun with company.</p><p> </p><p>“More fun” or perhaps “less unnerving”- it wasn’t a pretty sight, rounding the corner to Downing Street. Police officers called to her and she flashed her psychic paper at them as she dashed past, throwing away an explanation as she pelted through the gates and hammered towards number ten.</p><p> </p><p>Her heart sank at the untidy scatter of bodies on the ground. She didn’t know precisely what she was dealing with, but this was going to take an awful lot of explaining. The authorities had been hot on the trail of some supposedly hostile force, and a gaggle of political figures had descended en-masse to the UK’s seat of power in the capital, only to have communication abruptly cut out (much to the concern of the watching public, clinging to their live feeds and TV screens worldwide).</p><p> </p><p>The feed was still streaming, although she realised as she entered the PM’s office why the visual had gone- the camera lens was smashed where it had been dropped, it’s operator downed. The room, mercifully, still contained a single living human- and what for all the world with it’s back turned to her like a human child. Attempting to creep in, however, drew the PM’s attention, and he glanced from behind the desk to her face.</p><p> </p><p>The little girl spun around and the Doctor held her hands out with a warning.</p><p> </p><p>“Woah woah woah woah, it’s okay,” she called, examining the frightened youngster. Everything looked fairly normal, save for the eyes. Definitely not human- but the trail of bodies was fairly telling on that front. Glowing silvery light spilled from the child’s eyes, and a frightened little voice sounded in the Doctor’s mind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I didn’t want to hurt them!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I know,” the Doctor sighed, taking a cautious step forwards and kneeling down, “You didn’t know. Humans are fragile, they can break so easily.”</p><p> </p><p>The little girl nodded miserably, silvery light dimming ever so slightly. The telepathic communication was powerful, enough to set the Doctor’s hair on end. It didn’t take much to piece together what had happened- it was strong, it gave her a sharp headache in her skull. Her teeth throbbed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “How do I talk to them? I need their help!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your name? I can talk to them for you, it’ll be alright,” she said, with a quick smile up to the PM. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “It’s Natha. My voice doesn’t kill you?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The man was watching the pair on his office floor, and a single beat of sweat was creeping down the side of his brow. He didn’t return the Doctor’s smile, only spoke urgently into a phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah- no- someone else is here- no I don’t know but she’s talking to it. No, I don’t know who she is, but she’s got it distracted, might be a good time to move on neutralising-”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor said, standing up and placing herself squarely in front of the little girl, expression puckering into a frown, “And I need you to trust me. I can talk to her, she doesn’t want to hurt you, but I think she’s struggling to-”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> It </em> ,” the PM interrupted, and the Doctor raised her eyebrows, affronted, as her rapid explanation was abruptly curtailed, “Has done nothing <em> but </em>hurt people.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> She, </em>” the Doctor bit back harshly, “Didn’t mean to. Her name is Natha, she needs your help.”</p><p> </p><p>The PM scowled down at the little girl, who shrank behind the Doctor, the silver in her eyes brightening again. The pain intensified in the Doctor’s head and she growled in frustration. “Oh sure, why listen to the person trying to<em> save </em> your life,” she muttered irritably, as the PM spoke into the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Get the army in here- no I don’t care, if some crazy civilian is in here and gets hurt, she shouldn’t have walked into this situation! I don’t care what her credentials say- the thing is distracted, <em> take it out! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Natha, you have to keep calm-” she turned, but the little girl was already losing control, she could see it. “Natha, it’s alright,” she said urgently, getting to her knees and reaching out to the child, who was trembling, the voice in the Doctor’s head building to a horrible keening shriek.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “No, they’re going to try and kill me! They’re going to trap me, I’m scared!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The psychic barrier the Doctor was attempting to hold around Natha’s mind snapped abruptly and she was thrown backwards, away from the little girl and roughly into the desk behind her. She heard a shout of pain and a thud and tried to blink the pain away, vision swimming. “Natha, stop!” she yelped, and after a moment the pain subsided.</p><p> </p><p>She struggled to her feet, gripping the desk, and took stock of the office. Natha was crouched on the floor, tiny arms over her head. The PM had disappeared. She tore around the desk and bit her lip. The man was spread-eagled on the floor by the window, and she knelt down, reaching for his wrist. Nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no,” she breathed, standing again and backing away, panic beginning. She shook her head, reaching for the solution that she needed to be there, wincing when she realised it wasn’t forthcoming. She let out a quick, decisive breath, rubbing a hand over her face and returning around the desk to Natha.</p><p> </p><p>“Natha, sweetheart,” she said, kneeling down and fumbling in her pockets. The child looked up, silvery eyes tearful and trusting.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t want to, but I-” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright,” she said, shaking her head, “Listen to me carefully. I’m going to keep you safe, okay? Take this, it’ll read your thoughts-” She passed the girl her psychic paper, “And this- it’s a short-range teleport, it’ll take you somewhere safe. Once you’ve teleported, you need to activate this-” she handed the little girl a rounded device, metallic with a depression in the centre, intricate circuitry criss-crossing it’s surface. “My friend will come get you- tell him the Doctor sent you and explain that you need to get off this planet. He’ll help, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Natha still looked petrified, but she nodded trustingly, and the Doctor slipped the teleport device onto the girl’s wrist. It was enormous on her, and the Timelord’s hearts ached. Approaching footsteps told her she was out of time, so she thumbed the trigger. Natha vanished with a flash, and moments later a small group of uniformed soldiers burst onto the scene.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need those,” she sighed, standing up and nodding at the multiple guns levelled at her, “And I don’t really appreciate them to be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>“The Prime Minister’s down!” yelped one officer, and she grimaced. This was going to take some explaining indeed.</p><p> </p><p>“I- I am sorry,” she sighed, holding her hands up, “I tried to save him, it- it was difficult, a lot happened in a short space of time, if you’ll let me explain-”</p><p> </p><p>“Explain how you murdered our leader?” snapped an authoritative woman, striding into the room and scowling, one finger to a communication device in her ears. The Doctor lifted her chin and stared evenly at the new arrival.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t murder your leader, I was trying to save him,” she started frustratedly, but the woman glared at her, unmoved. “Give it a rest, Doctor, we already heard you talking to that creature. We know you’re on it’s side. Tell us where you’ve sent it.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s a frightened <em> child </em>,” the Doctor shot back exasperatedly, temper starting to rise, “She heard your man suggesting you all come in here and kill her and she got scared. I’d guess she’s not used to being around humans, and her telepathy was strong, I think it just overwhelmed his brain. I tried to warn him, I-”</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t have been here interfering in the first place,” the woman argued hotly, striding forwards until she was glaring down into the Doctor’s eyes, which narrowed sharply.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your name,” she asked, voice carefully quiet, intense dislike spiking.</p><p> </p><p>“Colonel Bright,” the woman replied smartly, signalling her officers, who filed into the room, staring down the barrel of machine guns at the Doctor, who flicked a brief, disapproving glance in their direction, before returning her attention to the Colonel. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ve obviously heard of me,” she muttered, taking a pointed step out of the woman’s space, “So you know I'm here to help.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’ve heard of you alright,” Bright said, arching an eyebrow coolly. The woman wore her dark hair pulled back tightly, and her expression was full of ill-disguised contempt as she regarded the alien stood in the centre of downing street. “I’ve heard of how you interfere and meddle, I’ve heard of how you bring nothing but death. Every single major incident for over the last decade, your name’s come up, Doctor. I shouldn't be surprised to see you here as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“I- those incidents where me and my friends saved the world?” the Doctor yelped indignantly, shaking her head with a truly baffled frown. She was used to hostility but there was an ugly undercurrent to Bright’s words that was chilling.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes, you love to play the hero, don’t you,” the officer said, taking another pace forwards, which the Doctor matched, bringing her bumping against the desk, “Awfully convenient you always happen to be here whenever there’s trouble, just in time to swoop in and save the day.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> lucky, </em>” she hissed, gripping the edge of the table, “My ship brings me when I’m needed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes, your ship,” Bright pressed a finger to her ear, “The police box. We’ve impounded it. We really feel that… due to your involvement in this incident, you need to be answerable.”</p><p> </p><p>The Doctor felt cold, and she swallowed, shaking her head. “I didn’t do this,” she said slowly, “I was trying to <em> help </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you want to help,” the woman said, “You’ll need to tell us where you sent that creature. It needs to be contained as a matter of national- of <em> planetary </em> security. The Earth cannot be your playground to bring dangerous aliens to.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s only scared,” the Doctor protested, knowing in her hearts that that didn’t matter at all to the imposing colonel, “She needs somewhere safe. I think- she was looking for somewhere to hide. She’s afraid and alone, and she doesn’t need to be interrogated. I’ve sent her somewhere she wont be a threat to you<em> or </em>herself.”</p><p> </p><p>“How convenient. You’ve simply made it impossible for us to be sure this threat is taken care of. What, are we just supposed to take your word for it?”</p><p> </p><p>“My word used to be enough before,” the Doctor said tiredly, running her hand over her face, “Look, Colonel. I am <em> not </em> your enemy. I protect this planet, I swear to you. You don’t need to be afraid of me, and you definitely don’t need to threaten me.”</p><p> </p><p>Colonel Bright tilted her head to the side, unmoved. “Oh, you’ll know when I’m threatening you, Doctor,” she promised. “You’re going to come with me and answer for this. Humanity has had enough of you bringing danger our way just so you can feel good about saving us from it. We might not be as <em> fragile </em>as you think.”</p><p> </p><p>The Doctor glanced at the ring of soldiers surrounding her, chewing her lip. She was running through several plans simultaneously, none of which involved obliging the imposing military woman. Since when did humanity not trust her? She knew that they didn’t exactly understand her but this… this was something newly hostile. She licked her lips and opened her mouth, preparing to start bargaining, when there was a sudden shout outside.</p><p> </p><p>Every eye in the room snapped to the window, and before any of the humans could react, the Doctor had run across the room to look outside. A familiar figure stood below in a old slate-gray coat, and she grinned. Thank goodness he’d come through.</p><p> </p><p>“Doctor, you stay still-” snarled the colonel, but the timelord had already thrown the window open. She paused on the sill, glancing back at the room full of soldiers, guns trained on her. She pursed her lips and threw caution to the wind, pitching herself backwards out of the open window with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>She landed with a heavy thud on the pavement outside and groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, sorry-” an american accent sounded somewhere above her, but she was already surging to her feet, shaking her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Make it up to me by getting me out of here,” she asked, gripping Jack’s arm, and he grinned, before activating a device on his wrist. The Doctor felt the familiar pull of a cheap and nasty teleport activating and screwed her face up as they shuddered to another location.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Doctor!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She’d barely recovered from the nausea of Jack’s jury-rigged teleporter before Natha impacted her waist, skinny little arms hugging her with all their strength. The Doctor paused, taken aback for a moment by the sudden, overwhelming physical contact, before she recovered and brought her arms down to return the embrace, one rubbing the child’s back and another coming protectively but gently down on the top of her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Natha,” she murmured, relieved. She glanced around, spotting Jack and taking in their surroundings. They were stood in a loose woodland, a cool wintery breeze shaking the treetops, and she grinned gratefully at her friend, although her amusement was short lived.</p><p> </p><p>“Doc…” Jack said warily, blinking at the child who had attached herself to her waist. She raised her eyebrows. “Transport?” she asked, and he waved a hand. A section of air to their right shivered and a ship shimmered into view, one door propped open. “Natha, I need you to go with Jack, okay?” she said, hooking the girl’s arms from around her waist and scrounging together a warm smile. Natha blinked anxiously up at her.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Aren’t you coming too?” </em> she asked, and the Doctor shook her head. “I have to get my ship back, she’s very important to me,” she said. Natha sighed and nodded. <em> “Our ship crashed,” </em> she said sadly, <em> “My parents said we might be safe here, it’s far away, but they…” </em> silvery eyes filled with tears, but there was no painful spike in psychic energy this time. Just deep, deep pain.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll find you somewhere safe, don’t worry,” Jack said, with a twinkling grin. Natha nodded with a smile and trailed off towards the ship, pausing in the doorway to shoot the Doctor a little wave. As soon as the little girl was out of sight, Jack turned to the Doctor, his expression grim. “Doc, you need to check the news,” he said, pulling a smartphone out and gingerly holding it out to her.</p><p> </p><p>The Doctor felt a shock that impacted somewhere between her hearts as she blinked at a photo of her own face, accompanied by a headline of <em> Planetary Fugitive </em>. She seized the phone and frantically scanned the article, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Of all the lunacy…” she muttered, handing the phone back and gaping at Jack.</p><p> </p><p>“Being at a loss for words doesn’t suit you,” he muttered worriedly, pocketing the phone and glancing around. “Are you sure you’re sticking around? Looks a little volatile right now, maybe you should get off planet for a while, come help me find somewhere for Natha?”</p><p> </p><p>The Doctor shook her head. “I’m not leaving the TARDIS,” she insisted, “And Natha needs to get out of here <em> now. </em> Find somewhere she’ll be safe?” Jack snapped her a salute, looking deeply unhappy. </p><p> </p><p>“Take the vortex manipulator then,” he insisted, handing it to her. She sighed and slipped it on her wrist with a tiny smile. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” she teased, and he rolled his eyes, starting towards the ship. “Wait there a second,” he called, vanishing inside before reappearing with a dark coat in his hand, which he tossed in her direction. “I know you… have a branding thing,” he said, expression knowing, “But you might wanna consider looking just a bit less recognisable, since they’ve got your photo. All of them, as it happens.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighed and shrugged out of her pale blue coat, folding it carefully and handing it to him. “Keep it safe for me, will you?” she asked, slipping the sonic and psychic paper into the grey coat he’d loaned her. He nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something more.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for taking care of Natha,” she said, backing away. He sighed and nodded, fixing her with a lingering, unhappy gaze, before ducking into the ship, which shimmered out of view even as the engines built to a roar. She backed away as twigs and branches snapped and leaves were tossed, and listened to the fading noise as Jack invisibly departed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. reference frames</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, Einstein. A truly troubled soul, whose massive scientific achievements were offset by living through times of extraordinary conflict. I wonder if knowledge brought him any comfort, as his work does to many. Although his discovery of relativity was actually deeply discomforting to understanding of science at the time. He was the first human to truly glimpse the workings of something that the Timelords learned to exploit at will- the true nature of space and time not as two separate axes along which objects are bound to tread, but connected parts of a greater underlying reality. Time and space are not separate, but they appear to the untrained eye to be two distinct phenomena. Look more closely and you’ll see where the idea of space and time as separate begins to come undone. Objects behave differently when you approach light speed, and gravity can cause time itself to go haywire. The universe doesn’t play by one rulebook, or at least not one with separate notions of space and time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s easy to understand why this was alarming to scientists when Einstein first proposed it. When relativity rules, that nice concrete certainty about the universe evaporates. Things that were presumed to be universal truths suddenly become unclear, and muddy. And since a scientist is concerned with seeking the ultimate truths of the universe, this throws something of a spanner in their finely balanced clockwork equations and understanding. When there is no preferred reference frame, it’s hard to get to anything fundamental. And a lack of reference frame is a problem that plagues far more than physics. How ever can you hope to have a solid moral basis for any decision when reference frames shift and move? I had thought that by visiting the Earth, I was protecting her. But my presence could have been the lightning rod that drew all the horrors and wonders of time and space to her doorstep. I truly had only ever had the best of intentions, but suddenly, my actions were being framed in an extremely unflattering light. And as a scientist, it is my job to investigate every possibility. Including the one that… maybe the humans were right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>The Doctor shook the newspaper out irritably and buried her head in it, hood pulled all the way up as she read up on the latest news on… well, herself. Or rather, the humans’ attempts to locate</span> <span>her. It made for pretty grim reading, but she needed to know at least vaguely what was going on. She ground her teeth as she scanned the latest updates, trying to keep from wasting too much energy being frustrated. So they’d pulled in her former companions, were holding onto the TARDIS… she seethed at the thought, trying not to imagine Colonel Bright sneering at her friends, or nosing around her ship… the TARDIS would never open her doors to someone like that, she was certain. But she missed her, she missed the freedom. It had been at least two weeks now, two weeks of scrounging naps and dodging police and it was starting to feel very… constricting.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t just the Colonel and the government, and the hastily-appointed new Prime Minister. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span>. People had turned against her, and that was unnerving. Perhaps not surprising, but unnerving certainly. Ugly little rumours snapped at her ears every time she was around people, snide and dismissive comments made about her- always by those unaware she was within earshot, but words that prodded and jabbed at her conviction, eroding it slowly, invisibly over time. She knew she wasn’t here to create problems. She knew that. But she couldn’t help but wonder. Did she put the Earth in danger? Was her presence there the reason it was always in jeopardy?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mind wandered to the fam. They had already gone above and beyond, helping Jack to break her out of Stormcage and offering their homes to her. But when it had come time for her to move on- and the time always came, she couldn’t ever stay still for too long, not even with the weight of everything she’d discovered looming over her- they hadn’t come with her. It had been bittersweet, but unsurprising. She had really done a number on them, dragging them to the cyber-wars, and she couldn’t blame them. Ryan was worried about missing out, and Graham was wearing thin on their adventures, and Yaz hadn’t been the same since the trauma of thinking the Doctor had died. She still remembered the young woman’s face when they had burst into her cell- twisted, haunted and pale, torn between tears of relief and fury.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor shut the newspaper decisively and stood from the bench, stretching and tugging her hoodie over her head. She couldn’t get to Sheffield even if she wanted to- she was somewhere in Hounslow, and getting out of London would be tricky. And counterproductive- as comforting as a familiar face might have been, what she needed was the TARDIS, and a way to talk to Colonel Bright without her simply arresting her on the spot. The woman had to have an ulterior motive, surely- she had seemed human, but maybe it was all part of some elaborate scheme. It wouldn’t be the first time a hostile alien had tried to get her away from the Earth. Memories of going to ground as her tenth incarnation crossed her mind and she grimaced at the thought of the Master somehow being behind this all. He hadn’t resurfaced yet, that she could tell, but this sort of thing was his style. Hit her where it hurt. Take away what she most loved. He apparently couldn’t help himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The truth was, not even the Master could make the hurt any worse. The sting of seeing herself exposed to the frightened masses and the judgement of billions of humans had knocked loose something deeply rooted in the Doctor’s hearts. Even when she had discovered Gallifrey wasn’t her real home- well, was that anything new? Earth had been more like home for the longest time. One again, a misplaced traveller landing on some foreign planet, far from home, starting again and finding a family. Learning to overcome where she had come from, letting go of her childish need for approval. But she hadn’t let it go at all, she’d merely shifted it, onto humanity, and cherry-picked wondering individuals who would happily turn their faces to the stars for a taste of the wonder of the universe. But now she wasn’t the kindly bringer of wonder, the confident and smug saviour who swept in at the last moment and with clever words and inhuman intellect dazzled and amazed. All that was destroyed now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Humiliatingly, the Doctor knew she would have to find a cafe or corner shop sooner or later. It was mortifying, being beholden to the petty physical needs of her body- usually she could ignore them, or at least she did ignore them, up until they forced her into submission- passing out in the console room, suddenly being presented with a sandwich by Graham, begrudgingly letting Yaz bandage her arm after an overzealous encounter with a Sontaran. But she had no fam to help her now, and she was finding it harder and harder to ignore the pangs in her middle. She wondered idly how long it would take before a regeneration kicked in if she starved, before pulling her tired limbs back into order and standing up. It was risky, but so was the alternative. Sighing, she pulled the hood as low as it would go and slunk off in the direction of the nearby high street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even the cobbles and road signs seemed hostile. This was not her Earth, nowhere near. The planet and people she loved always managed to surprise her, but this was unpleasant and, in a mean, bitter corner of her mind, someone sneered that it really </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be a surprise. Maybe the old man- the youngest old man, the Doctor thought, lips twitching in a nostalgic smile. Oh, how old and experienced she’d thought she was when she was him. He had made </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> the quick and sweeping judgement of humanity- it was embarrassing to think about now, how he’d been so sure that they would be revealed that he’d kidnapped two school teachers. In all those hundreds of years, humanity had done nothing but prove the Doctor wrong. So many kind souls, so many perfectly brave and brilliant companions. And yes, she’d seen the darker side of humanity too, but she wanted to believe there were more good people than bad. The voices shouting the loudest didn’t have to be the majority, after all…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shop was unassuming and quiet, and she sloped into the corner shop, shoulders hunching in the confined space. The shopkeeper spared the Doctor a passing glance before going back to his newspaper and she sidled between the shelves, eyes scanning them nervously as she tried to pick out something that was lightweight and wouldn’t spoil easily. She grabbed out a packet of custard creams with a short-lived grin and glanced around the shop, trying to work out what else to pick. Another customer, an old lady, glanced her direction, and she ducked her head, opening the fridge door hurriedly and grabbing a bottle of water before closing it and moving to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re her, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor pulled up short, eyes wide and heart hammering as the short little grandma peered up at her accusingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m who?” she asked innocently, adrenaline rising as the shopkeeper glanced up from his newspaper and frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, wait a second,” he said, standing up and emerging suddenly from behind the counter, and the Doctor backed up as he squeezed himself in front of the old woman- the crammed little shop really wasn’t big enough for this kind of thing- and glared down at the Doctor. “She’s right!” he exclaimed, eyes widening as his voice skipped higher in alarm, “You’re- you’re the one they’re looking for, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” the Doctor said evenly, holding her hands out. The humans recoiled nervously, as if the custard creams were a deadly weapon, and she swallowed past a sudden, painful lump in her throat. “It doesn’t matter who I am, all I want is to buy a packet of biscuits and a bottle of water. You can do that, right? I’m just a customer, nothing more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-No, no, they said, it says on the news,” the man stammered, eyes wild. The old woman had backed away and pulled out a phone. The Doctor dropped the custard creams and reached for her pocket, drawing out the sonic. The man moved to snatch it from her and she yanked her hand backwards on instinct, shocked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to hurt you!” she snapped exasperatedly, holding her arms up again, suddenly realising she wasn’t in an especially good position to maneuver from- stuck between shelves of tinned peas and cornflakes, the only exit blocked by two extremely frightened humans, one of whom was already speaking urgently into the phone. The Doctor watched, agonised, but the shopkeeper was still looming menacingly over her, and she gritted her teeth. She didn’t like what she was about to do at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stuck her chin out and pulled her eyebrows over her eyes, teeth bared as she snarled up at the shopkeeper, who paled instantly, “I’m only gonna tell you to get out of the way </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she hissed, eyes glittering, “Then I activate this-” she twitched the sonic, “And you’ll both be very sorry.” The man’s look of abject terror was almost enough to tear the mask away, shredding something in her frayed nerves. She needed the bluff to work, she couldn’t plead with him. They would know she had nothing, and she’d be stuck until the police arrived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man’s eyes were glued to the sonic, and she used the opportunity to throw her body sideways into a shelf. The resulting bang and clatter of cans more than distracted the two humans- enough for the Doctor to leap over the debris and bolt for the exit, the panic of flight moving her limbs automatically. She ran so fast down the high street her feet barely touched the concrete, and she careened into a side alley, ducking out of view and continuing her escape, weaving behind the backs of buildings as sirens screeched from the high street. The Doctor came to a low wall and peered over it. Train tracks, but quiet for now- and a bridge a few metres down the track. She flung herself down and set off towards the relative shelter of the tunnel without thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was in luck- a very, tiny, pitiful amount of luck, but luck nonetheless. As she walked towards the bridge, maintenance pathways opened out, giving her a safe spot to collapse in, out of the way of oncoming trains. She flopped down, breathing heavily, her back against dark, wet stones. Sighing, she put the sonic back in her pocket and laid her head against the wall, eyes sliding shut. Everything was so hideously wrong. People had been convinced to shift their view of her. Her firsts clenched at her sides, as if she could somehow fight off the thoughts that were swarming her cluttered and crowded mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Best plan I had, at the time,” she said feebly to thin air, eyes still shut defeatedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, really?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That snide little jab was sandshoes, ever keen to be holier than himself. She snarled at the thought rising from the depths of her memories of who she had been. She knew she would never have hurt them, that didn’t need justifying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But perhaps, just a little, you enjoyed baring your teeth?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flicked open furiously and she knuckled her forehead. It was nonsensical to blame her past selves for her own anxieties. They came in their voices but they were new, sparked into existence by the detestable Colonel Bright. The Doctor removed her hands from her forehead and stared at them, eyes distant and old. New hands, but still stained in the same old blood- some things didn’t come out in the wash. Had she been wrong? Was she really only on Earth to help? Or was it something else, something harmless enough on the surface, but deeply selfish in the fallout?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the Doctor won, it was easy to dismiss those fears. Oh, the losses never went away, they stayed forever, etched in a memory that endured over regenerations, a mind and soul that was a monument to pain. But they were something else entirely in the dark, crouched under a dripping bridge in the gathering darkness, shadows deepening. Faces she’d failed were accusatory in her memories now, or else naively expecting her to come, as she always did, believing blindly in the Doctor right until the very end, lambs to the slaughter. Was she deceiving herself just as much? Had she brought into her own myth so much she was forgetting the trail of destruction she forged that legend in?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor stayed curled under the bridge, exhausted and uncertain, until long after dark, where a passing train woke her with a start. The lights tore into her senses and tossed her lengthening hair around. Unsteadily, she clawed her way upright, legs shaking as she lent into the wall. She needed somewhere safe to regroup, or she would never think her way out of this. The newspaper had listed everyone they had tapped for information on her whereabouts but- they’d neglected one person, nearby. Probably knew it wasn’t worth bothering over. The Doctor hadn’t really visited in years. A grim smile twitched onto her lips- she’d been unwelcome there a long time before the planet had decided it hated her. But she had precious few choices left- if she stayed out in the open, she’d be spotted before long anyway, if she didn’t give into the temptation to hand herself in out of sheer exhaustion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staggering upright, the lonely figure under the bridge straightened her shoulders and laboriously continued her journey, one leaden foot at a time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone. I hope y'all are all staying safe right now. I'm in the UK so I'm working from home at the moment, trying to keep my spirits up by distracting myself with fic and keeping busy outside of teaching related jobs. Do expect regular fic updates, since I'll have a bunch of time on my hands and stuff is kinda scary right now, I think this is one way I'll try and distract myself from all of everything.</p><p>Me whenever I write a fic: hmm, but is the doctor going to be on the run in this one?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. inertia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Any object in motion stays in motion, provided the forces on it are balanced. Of course, this is dependent on having an inertial reference frame- a reference frame which also isn’t moving. That’s trickier than you might think. You might imagine that being stood still counts as an inertial reference frame, but remember- you could be stood still on a planet, or a spacecraft, or a moon- all of which are likely to be moving, even if you seem to be sat still on their surface. And those objects themselves track through space, the forces on them finely balanced to keep their motion the same. Stable orbits are more fragile than you might imagine. And anything moving in space is like this- the slightest nudge one way or the other could send anything careening wildly off course, like a cyclist who takes a corner too hard and wobbles over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course, on Earth, or anywhere with an atmosphere, and a gravitational field, there are plenty of forces to interrupt an object’s inertia. Weight tugs objects to the ground, friction drags against car tires and air resistance slows down anything travelling at any real speed. It’s fairly rare to find an object where the forces on it are actually balanced. The exception is objects which are still- a glass of water will not start levitating off a table for no reason, nor will it fall through the wood. Inertia is frequently misunderstood as some mysterious quality that keeps objects from changing direction, but the truth is, for less massive objects- like you and me- inertia is a fragile thing, all too easily destroyed, as things are tugged and tossed off course by a near constant barrage of forces.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilf knew, somehow, when the doorbell went, who to expect. He had almost been hoping, if he thought about it. He hurried into the hallway before Sylvia could get there and yanked open the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On their doorstep, peering up at him warily from under a hood, was the Doctor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d never seen this face before, save from on the news, but he let out a sharp gasp of relief as he looked at her, a trembling hand rising to his mouth. He didn’t know if this was better or worse, than the skinny young man, who reminded him so much of himself, but before he could form a sentence, a single plea dropped from her lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, he beckoned her into the hallway, staring at her frantically, hardly believing what he was seeing. After ten long years, after many more aliens and a darker, more hostile Earth, he had begun to wonder if they’d made the Doctor up. If the situation had been different he would have been elated, to know that the kind hearted alien was out there still, a mad person in a box, an eternal guardian looking out for the planet. But somehow it had been all twisted up, and the Doctor’s story had been rewritten by scared men and women in power, and instead of feeling happy, all Wilf felt looking at her was guilt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seconds later, Sylvia’s arrival was heralded with a thunder of footsteps downstairs, and Wilf winced internally as he watched her come to a sudden stop, staring at the Doctor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Dad, what the hell,” she hissed, hostility radiating from her, “Are you insane?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, give it a rest, love,” he muttered, shaking his head, as the Doctor’s expression suddenly shuttered. Hazel eyes turned cold and closed off as the woman stared at Sylvia icily, perfectly still.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad, you saw the news, she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Doctor saved my life,” Wilf reminded her hotly, and the Doctor’s eyes flashed quickly to him, expression still unreadable, “He saved us all, how can you forget that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was all a long time ago,” Sylvia scowled, eyeing the Timelord distrustfully, “If that even really </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Doctor, I mean honestly, changing faces is one thing-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On Donna’s wedding day,” the new Doctor spoke in a Yorkshire accent, her voice unwavering as she pulled her hood down and squared her shoulders, “I went back in time. I brought a lottery ticket with a pound I borrowed from her father.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilf felt tears starting in his eyes at the memory. The young looking, impossibly ancient man he’d known had been so afraid and so desperately sad. He wanted to hope that after the pain of dying, the Doctor might’ve found someone, a companion half as good as Donna, to keep him company on his dark and dangerous road. The figure in their hallway looked lonelier than ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s really you,” he murmured, and she turned to him, a smile twitching her lips as she nodded once. It vanished as quickly as it had come, but instead of dissolving into a rictus of grief, as the old Doctor’s smiles had often gone, it slid behind some cold, unfeeling mask, that left the Timelord’s face looking vacant, almost menacing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How… is Donna?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t get to ask,” Sylvia hissed furiously, her expression suddenly ugly enough to match the Doctor’s, “You think she can’t tell on some level? Oh, she’s happy enough, but I can tell. You did something to her brain, she’s not right, and she can feel it even if she doesn’t know why. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner- someone who can go and mess around in someone’s mind like that, of course you’re dangerous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor’s expression had frozen into that blank mask, eyebrows hooking above a razor sharp gaze, glassy eyes that did the best impression of being totally unmoved by Sylvia’s tirade. The Doctor, Wilf remembered, was chatty, and the silence was uncomfortable and unnerving.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sylvia, don’t…” he protested feebly, looking apologetically at the Doctor, whose entire body was rigid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should go,” she muttered, looking straight through both humans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not- Sylvia, pack it in,” he insisted, getting between the pair and glaring at his daughter, “The Doctor saved my life, she saved all of our lives goodness knows how many times over, and now she’s having to deal with the entire ruddy planet being ungrateful. I’m getting her a cup of tea, you can like it or lump it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sylvia glared at the Doctor for one more long moment, then shrugged and stormed into the living room. The Doctor winced at Wilf, expression buckling into a desperately sad look that was all too familiar. She looked awkward and trapped in the hallway, and he wasn’t familiar with this body but he was sure she shouldn’t have looked so pale and exhausted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- I’m sorry,” she started hesitantly, tone so casual after the tense atmosphere that he had to double take to make sure it was the same person speaking, “I don’t want to cause a problem, I can just leave-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no you wont,” rumbled Wilf gruffly, shaking his head and nodding towards the kitchen, “Come and sit down, you look shattered.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She followed him into the kitchen, and he caught her stiffening as she looked around the space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” he asked worried, wondering if she was about to collapse, or start glowing, or any of the other number of insane things the Doctor seemed to manage on a regular basis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just… don’t have especially great memories of this house,” she muttered, looking down. A sweep of blonde hair obscured her expression, but her voice sounded dry and pitiful as she spoke. Didn’t seem to be as much of a cryer as her predecessor, but if possible she was even more miserable. And somehow… bitterer. Her sadness had a bite to it that the old Doctor had notably lacked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind Sylvia, Donna’s doing okay, really,” Wilf murmured, and the Doctor’s head jerked up instantly, fixing him with an intense, alert expression that reminded him that she was rarely ever actually absent. Same as before, never missing a thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is she?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she- they’re alright,” he murmured lamely, “Kept her head on her shoulders, even after your gift. They’re comfortable and… safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor nodded, seeming to accept the news, and sank into a chair, her head lowering onto the table, hands running through her hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you well, Wilf?” The question was muffled by the table, and he blinked as he made the tea. “Y- yea, I s’pose,” he muttered, “Worried recently, though. People’re getting cruel. And all this business about you- it- I wanted to say something but, I didn’t know- I mean I- we’d have to explain to Donna, and…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They haven’t gone anywhere near her, have they?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor had sat up and was staring at him urgently, and he shook his head with a smile. “She’s not paid it much attention, you know Donna,” he said. The Doctor sighed, accepting the tea he offered her with a nod. For a long moment they both sipped their tea, Wilf watching the Doctor, who was staring thoughtfully into space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilf?” she asked at length, eyes focussing on him, expression growing serious. He swallowed, readying himself to try and answer whatever questions the Doctor must have- about how humanity had got so paranoid and cruel, about where she could even go right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any biscuits?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded and stood up, opening the cupboard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Custard creams, if you have any,” she added. He felt around in the back of the cupboard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” he remarked, only managing to come up with a pack of digestives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have an “anything I can get”-tooth at the moment,” she replied grimly, gazing despondently at the digestives before sighing. “Thanks, Wilf,” she murmured, picking one up and morosely dunking it in her tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want a proper meal? I can make you beans on toast, if you like,” Wilf started, realising that he wasn’t wrong- she did look pinched and worn out. She wasn’t even eating properly- his heart clenched painfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No thanks,” she favoured him with a tired, kind grin, but her eyes were completely hollow, “I- I’m fine, really.” The grin once again drained from her expression, and she returned to staring at her hands, shoulders looking weighted down with unknown amounts of worries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No you’re not,” he murmured, shaking his head and clicking his tongue sadly as he sat down, staring across the table at her. She glanced up at him, surprised, defensive, frowning, before a rueful smile crept across her features. “I forgot, you knew me before,” she murmured, ancient eyes sweeping over his face, “You probably remember me better than I remember myself when I last saw you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember you was scared to change,” Wilf said, “You said it was like the old you died and someone new walked off in his place. Was… was it all that bad? Do you feel like the same person?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, he didn’t think he was going to get an answer. She was so much more reserved, determined seemingly to not let her guard down. But after a long moment she shook her head slowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I barely recognise the person I was back then,” she admitted, rubbing her hands over her face, “I’ve had two other faces since him. It’s been a long time. A- a really long time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How long?” Wilf was almost afraid to hear the answer, and even more worried when she shrugged a shoulder in a poor imitation of blitheness. If the Doctor had already thought he’d lived too long before… goodness only knew that explained the bitterness and exhaustion that lurked in the shadows of her features.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lost count. I’m somewhere around two thousand, but that’s just what I remember.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes as they widened, “Lot of time since I last saw you, for me.” Finally she glanced at him, face like a cold, empty hearth, any trace of embers long gone out. Wilf shook his head in silent horror, lost for words. The thought of living so long that memories got lost made him shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I can’t believe you remember me, after that long,” he mumbled, and the coldness evaporated instantly, and she shook her head, gaze lighting with all the warmth of her former self, and Wilf felt a little reassured. The Doctor was still the Doctor, even if she was worn out of niceness. She was still unthinkably kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’d never forget. I wouldn’t, how could I?” She gave him a watery smile, shaking her head slowly. “I remember all of you, everyone. All the people I-” she cut herself off, teeth biting down against some bitter thought, before the words started coming anyway, with a passion Wilf remembered well. It was quieter, more contained. There was no shaking voice, no blazing eyes filled with tears. Just someone who looked like an average thirty-something, whose posture might suggest she’d had a tiring day at work. “All the friends I’ve lost. All the people I failed to save. Everyone I outgrew. They’re all with me, every one of them, right back to the beginning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But- you said, what you remember,” he breathed, puzzled, “What did you forget?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something shifted in the Doctor’s expression, in a way that somehow reminded Wilf of a cat’s shoulder blades moving under it’s skin as it readied to pounce. “I didn’t forget,” her voice was deathly still, her eyes unfocussed once again. “I… found something out. About…” her body was taught, and the old man was sure if the slightest pressure was applied she’d snap clean in two. In all the time she had been here, they’d barely discussed the current manhunt. What kind of horrors had she discovered, that it was more urgent in her mind than a global mission to capture her?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do you keep going?” Wilf’s voice came out as a plea. The Doctor who had spoken to him had barely needed any encouragement to talk, but now she seemed to be hard-wired to shut off every time she got close to opening up. She frowned at him. He recognised it easily- ex-soldiers he knew got the same look in their eyes, their memories transporting them back to the battlefield, horrors stealing moments from them day by day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You keep… going somewhere, in your mind,” he said hesitantly, “Your eyes… what happened to you, that you keep seeing it again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wondered if she was going to shut down again, but she shrank instead, shoulders pulling into her sides, head lowering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I’m not who I thought I was,” she said finally, enigmatically, “My people-” an odd shudder ran over her and panic seemed to pile behind her eyes, voice papery thin and soft as dawn, “-weren’t really my people. I’m not even sure I’m from this </span>
  <em>
    <span>universe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They erased my memories… I’ve no idea how many times. Everything they told me… they lied about. And they-” tears were starting in the corners of her eyes, and she broke off, voice thick, just like her much younger self, in a cafe, ten years ago for Wilf, a thousand for the Doctor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilf was out of his seat and opening his arms before he realised what he was doing. He regretted it every time he’d looked out at the night sky, not going out on that rainy evening, and letting the skinny man covered in scratches go off in his box to die alone. The Doctor looked at him in alarm for a second, still sat in her chair, and he paused, but something in her seemed to give and she reached for him, face crumpling like a child who had slowly realised they’d fallen over and hurt themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cried so silently and for so long Wilf’s back started to ache, lent downwards towards the Timelord. She clung to him desperately, skinny shoulders hunched as tears from eons long passed were finally allowed to fall. He got the feeling she’d been holding onto them for a long time. “Oh, Doctor,” he murmured, hesitantly patting her head, “What’d they do to you, eh?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OOF, this was really engaging to write. Wilf is the Doctor's dad I don't make the rules sorry. also, I try not to force the Doctor into physical contact too much in my fics, it really seems to me that she prefers to Not Be Touched, but I felt like in this situation it would work.</p><p>Clipped will update next! I'm just super inspired for this fic tbh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Entropy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Entropy is often characterised as “chaos” or “disorder”, but a scientist has different definitions of those words (not just because chaos in the traditional sense is indistinguishable from the daily life of most scientists). In the thermodynamic sense, entropy is a measure not of “disorder” but of how many different sets of properties a system can have on the small scale whilst still displaying the same properties on a large scale.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Imagine a room full of air particles. At any moment each atom or molecule is in frantic motion, bouncing off walls, shivering with thermal energy that it’s shedding into its surroundings by radiation, colliding with other particles. Down here, it looks a mess, but if you zoom out, it looks the same no matter how the particles are behaving- a room full of air. This is what we call high entropy. Low entropy would correspond to the particles all clustering in one side of a room, not because that’s more “orderly” but because it means the room no longer behaves like a room full of air.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s the low entropy states possible in the universe that allow things to happen, allow things to change. In the case of the air particles clustering, they would inevitably spread to fill the room as soon as they all found themselves on one side of it, and that leads to change, in the transfer of heat. Something is happening. It more than defines the relative order and chaos, it shows us the direction of causality, the flow of time itself- ever forwards, spreading particles and their properties out more, sharing out the energy, until everything reaches the same temperature. Oddly enough, the most “disorganised” microstates- every particle, every little bit of energy spread evenly- produce a very calm, quiet macrostate...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor lost track of how long she had been clinging to Wilf’s jacket, breathing in the soft earth smell and wanting nothing more than to stay there. She hadn’t felt safety for the longest time, but this was close. Eventually, her tears started to dry out, although the well of misery remained. Every time she reached into her chest to try and grapple some explanation of the myriad of terrible, terrible things she was struggling with to explain to Wilf, it seized her instead and dragged her back down into the ravenous depths of her own history. Eventually, she swallowed thickly and shook her head, the memory of shame catching up to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood, covering her eyes with a hand that trembled, just slightly. Parting from Wilf was impossibly hard, but the urgent matter she’d so casually tossed aside wasn’t so easy to shed, and she knew she was on borrowed time. When she could bring herself to meet his eyes, they were bright and red-rimmed as well, roving her searchingly. “You should stay here,” he breathed, shaking his head, “You- you can’t be running about trying to keep safe when you’re-” he cut off, fumbling for a description of what exactly she was right now. A few words came to the Doctor’s mind but they didn’t quite hit- lost, desperate, afraid. Nothing out of the usual, she supposed tiredly, leaning on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t, Wilf,” she said simply, and then she was back. Back in control, or at least the appearance of it, although her shoulders sagged, and her frown pulled sharply at her features, eyebrows furrowed with concentration and lips pressed grimly together.</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor, why do they want you? Why can’t you talk to them and- and explain you’re here to help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned her head with a kind, pitying smile. “Wilf, you don’t think I tried? They don’t want to hear it. I don’t know if… maybe someone got to them and- and convinced them otherwise, or if maybe they’re just… really really afraid.” She straightened, eyes and hands stilling as she gazed at nothing at all. Or maybe they’re right- she didn’t voice the thought, it got stuck in her ribcage and rattled sickly around her heart like poison. Was she here to help? Or had she really turned Earth into her playground?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bitter thoughts were ashes in her mouth, but before she could voice them there was a noise from the hallway. The Doctor turned, expression condensing rapidly into something impassive as Sylvia appeared. The woman’s eyes darted nervously past the timelord, something furtive in her gaze, staring past her at Wilf. Her movements, her expression- guilt was coiling around her lips, and nervousness twitched from her, spilling onto the floor tiles. Wilf seemed to realise a moment after the Doctor, judging from the panic in his voice as he demanded to know what his daughter had done. She didn’t turn to look at him- she was too busy staring at the object in Sylvia’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You called the authorities,” she stated distantly, shocked and not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilf made a noise of defeat, and the Doctor felt him by her side, her hearts swelling at the unexpected gesture of support. She clamped down on her feelings, hard. She couldn’t afford to lose face now- not when she had nothing else to lose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sylvia, by contrast, was miserable and terrified. “You can’t stay here, Doctor,” she mumbled, still not managing to quite find the Doctor’s eyes, “You- you’re dangerous, and I- I can’t have you- and whatever’s going on… I don’t want it in my house…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sylvia….” Wilf moaned, his head sinking into his hand as he lent against the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad- I’m sorry. But I had to, I had to protect you, ‘cause you wont protect yourself. And- and Doctor-” now she was meeting her eyes, and the Doctor screwed the lid firmly on her feelings, “I’m… I’m sorry for you, too. I believe that you don’t know what you’re doing, when you come here.” The jar rattled noisily. “I- I don’t know where it is you come from, or what you’re trying to do here, but. You’ve got to start listening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She never was very good at listening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bitter accusations and arguments churned in her chest and her ribcage threatened to buckle, charring like a burning rooftop set to collapse in a shower of sparks and splinters. Her chin jerked up and all her worst instincts were dredged from the pit in her stomach and came snarling forwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> know where I come from,” she said, voice low rolling thunder, eyes steely and hard and so, so hurt. If they knew, they wouldn’t question it. They wouldn’t wonder at why, why a so-called alien, a time traveller, chose to spend so much of her life on the Earth. If they’d only seen what she had seen they’d understand that there was nothing sinister in the need to walk in a park, share a cup of tea, hog the custard creams and chat. But even her tiniest show of temper had confirmed everything Sylvia was afraid of- her eyes bulged and stared, a frightened, panicked rabbit. The Doctor wondered idly what that made her. Poison? A fox? A farmer?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A rabbit too, in all honesty, and everything else besides. For all her imperious fury, she was just a person. Her hearts hammered and stung, her back ached and her mind whirled. She was more and less than what they thought of her, but the thoughts for them were far too real. She bowed her head, the tiniest of breakings before Sylvia and Wilf, and squared her shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doctor didn’t bother pretending that Sylvia might try to stop her. The woman had clearly used up all her nerve calling her in, and her spiteful little show of irritation had been unkind. Uncalled for. She doesn’t know any better, the Doctor reminded herself as she turned to Wilf, dredging an unconvincing smile onto her face, as if he hadn’t just held her for goodness knows how long, as tenderly as he might've done his own children and grandchildren. “Same old, same old,” she sighed, “Time for me to run.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilf simply looked sad, bereft. He shook his head silently, knowing too well by now that that was the Doctor’s signature move. She was good at this part, always, even though it pained her every time, her companions ripping her hearts and leaving a dangling mess of veins and pain that splattered and bled as she journeyed on. She left them anyway, every time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took the back door, mind blank as the stress of leaving Wilf and the panic of being once again on the verge of capture overpowered everything but her most basal instincts.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Keep moving. Don’t look back. Run, run until your lungs have caved in and your legs have been ground to nothing beneath you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took her a while to realise that her hitching, pained breaths weren’t because she was sprinting away, pelting down a back alley and not pausing in her flight. She had no bearings, no idea where she was. All she had was shuddering sobs that overrode her best attempts to stop them. Glancing around in a frightened daze, she spotted a set of garages squatted at the bottom of a nearby group of flats, their blank faces promising possible shelter. She wormed her way in a tiny gap in the chain link fence, the noise shivering accusingly in the night as she went, and darted down the rows of closed doors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mercifully, she found an open unit, and she tugged the door a fraction higher- more noise, a gridning that set her teeth on edge- and ducked inside, collapsing on the floor. The spikes of adrenaline weren’t unusual, but the betrayal was a physical malady, and her hearts were sick with it. Sylvia’s accusations were lodged deeply in her brain, spiteful little jabs that snarled around every thought like thorned vines, leaving her mind no room to move without further impaling itself on the possibility that she really was a danger to the Earth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course she was, she thought bitterly, staring unseeingly at her hands. She was a danger almost everywhere. Hadn’t she learned anything? Didn’t she remember the names? The grim list of terrible titles she’d earned for her crimes in the Time War, her meddling and interference across the years and throughout the stars. She was magnetic, pulling an orbiting cloud of chaos and destruction wherever she went, going back to the very beginning. Sylvia was right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew the woman was bitter for the same reason Wilf was sorry, the same reason the Doctor’s hearts ached fitfully and restlessly when she had been in their house. Nothing was more damning than the breadcrumb trail of broken and disrupted lives she’d left strewn throughout Earth’s history in her wake. Donna, Martha, the Ponds, Bill… she wasn’t dangerous by choice, but by nature? Undisputiedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she had been so much younger, removing Donna’s memories, she had stumbled across a conversation that she’d never been meant to hear. It came back to her now, and she pulled her knees closer to her chest and pressed the heel of her hand to her head in a futile bid to ward it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“‘Cause you know the Doctor—he’s wonderful, he’s brilliant, but he’s like fire. Stand too close and people get burned.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t done right by Martha, the Doctor had realised with age. She hadn’t really done right by any of them, but she’d been especially careless with Martha Jones, and she deserved that warning, delivered to Donna and rattling ceaselessly around the Doctor’s skull since then. Like fire… had Martha even known the half of it? She had by the end, she knew, and she was probably one of the wisest, knowing to leave on her own terms. Precious few were the people the Doctor travelled with who got to do that, anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martha had been vocal in the public eye, speaking out in her defense- loyal, in spite of her shrewd assessment of the Doctor’s character. She hadn’t been able to watch any footage, but her picture had been scattered across newspaper, and the Doctor knew she’d been luckier than her younger self had realised to ever know such a bright and intelligent friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wondered if Martha had changed her mind at all, in the years between that time and now. She’d recovered from travelling, it seemed, but the Doctor didn’t call in, didn’t stop by. Guilt, a too-familiar companion, kept her from returning to the scene of one of her many messes. It wouldn’t be fair, she had reasoned, to Martha, to keep showing up in her life. Cruel, in fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was she being cruel? Had she let her closest friends suffer the very worst for the want of knowing her? Of travelling space and time? The Doctor stood laboriously, pushing limbs heavy with misery from the wall and traipsing back and forth in the confined space, chewing her lip. It was too late, she supposed, for musing, but if she was to convince the humans she was safe, well. She’d first have to convince herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What if she wasn’t able to convince them?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had assumed she would be able to somehow demonstrate her good intentions- after all, her intentions had never been anything but good. But if she really wasn’t safe… Would they let her just hop in the TARDIS and leave? Somehow she doubted that. Arrogance, as usual, had blinded her to the possibility of being caught out, but a very sudden realisation was rising unpleasantly around her like a tide. What if she couldn’t talk them out of their mindset? What if they didn’t listen to reason?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had never doubted humanity like this. But then again, they had never doubted her. Well, perhaps they’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>doubted,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but this was all out hostility, and she wasn’t sure whether she was capable of anything other than an angry stream of arguments if they really did want to confine her somehow. She had no TARDIS, no way of knowing where her ship even was, and Jack’s vortex manipulator was starting to weigh heavily on her wrist. Was she in danger from humanity?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling sat very ill on the back of her neck, prickling fitfully. They couldn’t very well kill her, not unless they tried very hard, but… what if they decided to try? She didn’t know if she even could die, but the discovery might prove to be deeply unpleasant. And what could she do? If they caught up to her, and decided to try and imprison her, really, could she do a thing about it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The realisation had distracted the Doctor even from her own miserable probings of her conscience, and the noise of footsteps was far too close before she noticed it. She froze, biting down on a frightened gasp, eyes enormous as she peered through the darkness, watching the sliver of light from the not-quite-closed container. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe it’s just someone coming to go in one of the other units</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she told herself frantically, internal monologue taking over and running double-time to try and distract her from her panic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or maybe some vandals are coming to graffiti the place. Or maybe-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two shadows- a pair of feet- stopped outside the container. The Doctor felt her nerves coiling and hissing like a pit of snakes. She gathered her wits and her best cocky grin together. If she was going down, she was going on her own terms. The irritating prisoner routine was so clearly a defense mechanism she was amazed anyone was ever actually annoyed by it, but it was her lifeline in a tight spot, the sole thread connecting her to the person she usually was, the lynchpin of her grand escapes. Don’t let them know you’re worried. Don’t let yourself know, either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doctor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hissing voice was familiar and the Doctor’s mask shattered, a gasp of relief tearing from her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yaz?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey guys, sorry for going quiet for a while, as I'm sure you can all understand, creativity is proving quite hard rn. I'm also changing up the way I work, so there'll be longer gaps between updates but hopefully some better quality stuff coming out later down the line. anyway, here's this, enjoy.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many thanks to my good friends Dayna and Taka for their assistance and encouragement with these shenanigans. Very excited about this one! For those worried- I haven't forgotten the teleporter mishap AU fic, that will update along with this one and Clipped- I'll try and balance updates between the three (plus occasional one-shots I guess) but please don't worry- there's lots and lots of hiatus to get through!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>